


riverbending

by dangpankoozie



Series: Riverbend - A Riverdale Genderswapped Alternate Universe [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Eating Disorders, LGBT+, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Murder, Sequel, Serial Killers, to riverbent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:18:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangpankoozie/pseuds/dangpankoozie
Summary: The sinners in this town pretended they were saints. No one in Riverdale thought that their sins would come back to make them pay, no one thought they would pay the consequences of their own actions. Hidden secrets will remain hidden, hidden sins will remain hidden, they had thought.But here they are, clawing at the door.Time's up, Riverdale.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are based on the characters from 2017 TV show Riverdale. The genders of the younger characters have been switched. The older generation remains unchanged. This fic is a sequel to Riverbent.

She asked the girl if she would like to be her friend.

The girl smiled.

That is all.

~


	2. Chapter Twenty-Six: Speechless

Ariel, Ben, Chester, Josephine, Juliet, Katrina, Parker and Vermont stood speechless inside the trailer, absorbing Janet’s news. Clifford Blossom killed Janessa Blossom to keep a secret, and had by mistake, caused another secret to crawl out. And that secret had secrets, the elaborate vault of skeletons that Riverdale had was falling out, crumbling like a flimsy house of cards.

Chester opened his mouth and said nothing for a while. “You…should go back to Wellington. I don’t know if you’re saying the whole truth, or if you even know the whole truth, but you’re clearly a danger and in danger in this town. You should go back to Wellington.”

“I’ve left that wretched place for good. The only good thing that came out of it was Christine…and now even she’s gone,” Janet said sadly.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Ben snapped.

“She’s…in a bad shape. I’m not allowed to contact her in any way,” Janet said.

Parker sighed. “We need to talk to our parents, Ben,” he said, uttering the difficult truth. Ben contemplated the suggestion of Parker’s, and then nodded. He turned to Juliet, who nodded and smiled weakly, signaling that she would be alright. Katrina and Josephine quickly left the trailer with Ben and Parker.

Vermont glared at Janet suspiciously. “What?” she snapped.

“I don’t believe things easily,” Vermont shrugged, knowing that there was something off in her story. Something missing, or some false quality to it.  

~

Ben and Parker dropped Katrina and Josephine at the bus station. Josephine went to the counter and got a ticket to Arizona.

“Arizona’s really far,” Katrina stated limply.

“Which makes it a perfect fit,” Josephine said.

Katrina sighed before kissing Josephine. “I kind of love you, you know,” she tried to joke.

“You’re the Sherriff’s daughter, Kat,” Josephine said sadly. “You can’t love a Serpent and a criminal,” she stated.

“You’re not a criminal in my eyes,” Katrina stated.

“But I am in mine. So I need to leave,” Josephine said.

The bus idled nearby, waiting for more passengers. “This is ridiculous, FP will never drop your name,” Katrina scolded her girlfriend.

“I have to go, Kat,” Josephine smiled, kissing her forehead, and hugging her. 

 “Please,” Katrina tried one last time.

“I’m sorry,” Josephine choked out, leaping onto the bus so that Katrina could not see the tears that began to fall. Katrina turned around and sighed, not able to get any tears out.

She turned and started to walk away from the bus, not giving it a second look.

~

Vermont and Ariel left the trailer, and only Chester, Janet and Juliet were left inside. Chester slapped his knees and stood up. “Well,” he said awkwardly, “I guess you’ll have to come home, or something,” he said.

Janet smiled, somewhat warmly.

“Thornhill it is,” she said determinedly.

Chester and Janet left the trailer, leaving Juliet alone.

 _What a wild turn of events,_ Juliet thought. Chester’s sister had a sister, Ben had a sister, Vermont’s father was coming back home, Juliet’s father was leaving, lots of wild things were happening. Juliet tried to move her shoulder, glad it did not hurt that badly anymore.

The drive back to Thornhill was awkwardly silent. “You’ll have to explain yourself to them your way,” Chester instructed to her. She nodded.

They knocked on the door, and Penelope Blossom gasped at the sight of her daughter. “Janessa!” she shouted. Chester raised one eyebrow, vaguely amused. His mother had seen Janessa’s mutilated body. Even after that, she was ready to believe Janessa was alive.

“You’re alive!” “Janessa” looked at her mother with displeasure and muttered apathetically, “Move.”

Penelope instinctively made way for her daughter, in shock. The Janessa she knew would never speak to her own parent like that. And come to think of it, she hadn’t heard from Wellington for a while…could it be?

Janet made her way into her rightful home, looking for the man who was supposed to be her father. Clifford was sitting in the dining table, reading the Riverdale Sun. Alice Cooper’s latest poison-pen letter to the Serpents was appreciated by him. If they could clear the land they occupied, then perhaps his partner, Hiram Lodge, could come up with a good investment that they could both share. He made a mental note to get in touch with Hiram Lodge the moment he entered Riverdale. He couldn’t risk him making a connection to the Southside, or even worse, the Coopers. He needed him precisely on the side of the Blossoms. Alice Cooper’s opinions of certain factions in Riverdale matched his, but they were in other terms complete enemies. There was a reason that Parker and Janessa’s relationship had been met with such hatred. His train of thought chugged down that lane so far that he didn’t even notice the figure standing in front of him. He saw his wife’s heels’ hurried clacking on the polished floor, which made him put the newspaper down.

Janet was patiently standing, one hand on her hip, head cocked to the side. He didn’t make the same mistake his wife had made. He knew exactly who this was, because he had watched his other daughter die. Don’t get him wrong, the pain at the funeral was real, but at least his business was thriving well at the moment. And here was the only one who could end him by just opening her mouth. She took a look at her piercing gaze, and he knew, _immediately,_ that she knew whose bullet it was that killed Janessa. His eyes focused hard on his neglected daughter, in hopes that he could will her out of existence. But that hadn’t worked with Janessa, and was definitely not going to work with her twin. The father of the house kept mum, scared out of his wits.

“You did a bad thing, daddy,” she said, the voice clear of love and any kind of warmth.

Janet smirked at the horrified expression in her bastard father’s eyes. _Checkmate, father,_ she thought.

In front of her brother and mother, Janet decided to rehearse the end of the Blossom empire.

“You killed Janessa, and then you tried to cover up. None of your grief was real. Then you planted the gun in Forsythe Pendleton Jones’ trailer, and gave an anonymous tip to the police. And now an innocent man is going to go to jail,” Janet said with a neutral expression and tone.

Penelope burst out in tears. “Deny it, Cliff! Deny it!” she sobbed. But how could he? All beans are meant to be spilled. Cats are kept in bags in the hope that one day they fill find their way out.

Chester stared at the floor, a perverse enjoyment in him beginning to spread. He loved how trapped his father was, and he was beginning to hate himself for it. _Jesus,_ he thought. _You’re turning into Vermont Lodge._  

“I’m going to kill you,” Clifford Blossom threatened emptily. Penelope stared in horror at her husband’s cruel words.

However, Janet just laughed. “You’re not very clever, are you? You inherited this dirty business from your father, and you made it dirtier, and now you’ll be the end of it.”

She made a show of pondering over something. “Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I will be the end of it.” She laughed, the sound devoid of any emotion.

She looked at her brother, who was looking at the floor, his expression sphinxlike. “Chester, may I borrow your handheld?” she asked, rather innocently. His head snapped up, surprised she was talking to her. He nodded and passed her his phone silently, resuming his position at the doorway.

She turned to her father, and pressed Sherriff Keller’s number into the keypad. “I’m going to call the police, and you’ll be going to jail. Say goodbye,” she said.

He didn’t. She shrugged, pressing the number and handing over the phone to Chester. “Tell him your father killed your sister, come on.” Chester stared at her, something burning in his eyes. _How could he send his own father to jail?_ “I need to know that when push comes to shove, you’re on my side,” she stated simply. Chester gulped, bringing the phone to his ear. Sherriff Keller picked it up on the other end.

“Hello?” Chester asked in a small timid voice.

~

Fred Andrews listened intently to his daughter’s narration of events inside Pop’s. It seemed improbable. Alice had a daughter? Clifford had twins? And he had institutionalized one of them? That seemed sociopathic.

 _How hypocritical of you, Fred,_ he chided himself. _You know all too well what happens when you get drunk on the vision of money._ He decided to reserve his judgement, and tried to enjoy his scrumptious breakfast.

“But I don’t get one thing,” Ariel said at the end of the story.

Fred raised an eyebrow. Ariel sighed, not satisfied. “The whole story was about Janessa and her. Chester was just…gone. He wasn’t in the story at all. And they’re Irish twins. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Fred Andrews sighed. 

“Ariel…” he started to explain. He had told Mary that telling Ariel was his responsibility. It would be convenient if he was here too, but he wasn’t good friends with Ariel. If Mary were here too, things could be better.

“Hold that thought, alright?” Ariel said. “I got to go,” she rushed to the restroom.

When Fred woke up in the hospital four days later, the last thing he remembered was the hooded man looking at him when he walked into the diner.

He didn’t remember Ariel jumping in front of the gun in the last minute to try and save him, he didn’t remember the hooded man shoving Ariel aside to get a clear shot at him, and he sure as hell didn’t remember Ariel’s scream when the shot fired and her father collapsed in a heap of blood.

~

Fred Andrews’ car sped through the town of Riverdale, spinning wildly as Ariel, who didn’t even have a license, tried to steer the car to Riverdale Hospital, which was on the edge of town. The doctor had gently stopped Ariel from coming into the operation theatre. It was logical, but all logic was out the window. It was so fast. Everything was coming down in shambles. A nurse bandaged Ariel’s sprained shoulder.

Ariel held her phone in shaking hands. She opened her contacts, and saw Ben’s contact first. She didn’t hesitate to call the number.

“Hello?” Ben asked.

“Ben,” her voice broke, the tears finally began to flow.

“Ari, is everything okay?” he asked, clearly knowing something was wrong.

“Ben, my dad…” she trailed off, not being able to say a word beyond that.

“Ariel, Ariel, tell me, where are you?” he asked.

She took a staggering breath, willing herself to say it coherently. “Ri…ale….pi…tal…” she said.

“Riverdale Hospital?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah,” she managed to croak out, weeping.

“I’m coming, okay? I’m coming,” he said, trying to calm her down.

~

Ben and Parker dropped off Katrina and Josephine and headed back home, thinking of what to say. But they didn’t have to say anything, because Alice was already screaming her head off when they returned.

“Do you have _any_ idea how worried your father and I were?” she screamed at the doorway. She shoved her two sons inside, demanding an explanation.

Parker requested his parents to calm down. Ben and him sat them down, and began their story from the beginning. It took a long time to get each detail out.

“Clifford Blossom killed his own daughter?” Hal asked, surprised.

“Not just that, he institutionalized a small child,” Alice said, horrified.

 _Hypocrite, much?_ Parker thought. As if she hadn’t shoved him into Wellington as well.

Ben raised an eyebrow. “There’s something else,” he said mysteriously.

“What?” Hal asked.

“Janet made a…friend, inside Wellington. With quite a peculiar name,” Parker continued, equally as mystifyingly.

Alice’s jaw became locked. “Who?” she asked.

“Christine Cooper,” Ben said scathingly.

Hal’s expression changed to one of shock, and Alice was shaken to tears. “She’s…friends? With Janet Blossom?”

“So you kept her at Wellington?”

Hal and Alice’s hypocrisy shot up like a rocket. Their firstborn was in Wellington since…who knew since when.

“You have to understand,” Hal began to start.

“Shut up,” Ben said simply. Hal was taken aback. Despite the rudeness being deserved, he didn’t realize it would be delivered so…curtly.

“Just now, mother, you were babbling about how _inhumane_ Clifford Blossom was to institutionalize a small child. And you’re guilty of the same thing. You’re both such bloody hypocrites,” Parker said, his voice cutting like a knife through Alice’s heart.

“Boys,” she tried to explain.

“We are going to give you one minute to explain. And then you’re going to bring us to Wellington yourself to see her.” There was a silence on the parents’ side.

“45 seconds,” Ben snapped.

“She was the result of a teen pregnancy,” Alice mumbled, ashamed.

“We made a mistake. That’s all there is to it. I made a rash decision and by the time I regretted it, Alice was already pregnant with Parker. So I left her in there. It’s the biggest mistake of our lives, ever,” Hal said, his eyes glassy with tears. 

“We’re sorry,” Alice sobbed.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “Us too.”

The two brothers then stood up silently and then made their way up to their rooms, not getting any shut-eye. Suddenly, Ben’s phone rang. The caller ID flashed, **little mermaid.**

“Ben,” Ariel’s voice was heartbreaking, like stuffing your hand inside a sea of glass shards.

~

After Chester and the Blossom twin left, Juliet decided she would try and get some shut-eye. She thought about how catastrophically everything had revealed itself. Janet was J. She laid down on her stomach inside her neighbor’s trailer, and thought about the events.

It was difficult to wrap her head around the recent events, and easy to forget that her father was going to jail, and that her mother had chosen to stay at the side and abandon her. But now her father would possibly get lesser time in jail. She didn’t know how that was a good thing, but it simply had to be.

She revised her impressions about her friends. Vermont’s impression was warming up to become positive. He cared for all his friends, clearly, even if they didn’t care for each other. He cared for Chester just as much as he cared for Ben. He was neutrally loving, it seemed. She didn’t doubt that there was a shrewd and sly Hiram Lodge side to him, and she feared that if and when it showed itself Ariel might get hurt. For now she liked Vermont Lodge, and she would not want to act in hostility when she interacted with him. That was all to it, it seemed. 

Chester was another, completely different case. Juliet just could not understand what was going on with him. At one moment he was pouring milkshakes down Ben, and the other moment he was helping Parker. Chester was completely unpredictable in his actions, and Juliet both liked him and was wary of him. When she thought of Chester, she got reminded of her disastrous sweet sixteen, which he hijacked to attack her about J. And then he almost sent her to jail. But she understood why he did all that. If Jack went missing and she found someone had been tormenting him…she would not stop at sending the guilty bastard to jail. So she understood what Chester did and why he did it. But she still couldn’t get rid of the paranoia that surrounded him. He seemed to be a chest ( _ha!_ Juliet thought morbidly) of secrets. His family’s one secret had given way to other secrets. Who knew what else he and his new sister had in store?

She then reluctantly moved her train of thought to her father, who had told her to never come back. Her innocent, victimized father. Because rich people always win.

Thinking that, Juliet was overcome with a feeling of pure hatred towards the Northside, even though she had many associations to it. Their perfect households, their collegiate futures. Their problems were issues they created themselves. Juliet’s life was unfathomable to them. She had lived homeless for almost four months. Could they? She didn’t have to live homeless, of course. She’d imposed it upon herself. But she doubted that people like Ben, Ariel and Katrina (forget about Vermont) could do that to themselves, as a method of self-preservation. Because that was what it was, was it not? Self-preservation. To avoid smelling like whiskey all the time. Her father was a gang member, a prominent one. Ben’s father was an editor of Riverdale’s Northside newspaper. Ariel’s father ran a successful local construction company. Katrina’s father was the Sherriff and Vermont…his father was criminally affluent. Her friends would never understand her life. The only people who could were the ones who suffered in the Southside. People like Katrina’s girlfriend, who at a young age was now an accessory to murder, because a rich man killed his daughter.

 _Jesus,_ Juliet thought, enraged. _These people have no limits._

She thought about her mother, who had to make the ultimate sacrifice and uproot Jack for his own good, and distance him away from his older sister, because she was now a bad influence, no doubt. She was a gang princess, she thought disdainfully. The daughter of the most prominent gang member. She would end up in the gang, for sure.

That was when the second interruption of the night happened.

Juliet dragged her way to the door and opened it, coming face to face with her father’s most trusted Serpent circle.

 _Speak of the devil,_ she thought wryly.

“We heard your father didn’t rat us out,” a man said. She recognized him as Tall Boy, her father’s right-hand man. His eyes were green, and wrinkles due to the drugged life he undoubtedly lived. His hair was longer than hers, tied in dreadlocks, and he was thin and wiry. He held out a jacket.

The emerald Serpent snake hissed at her, forked tongue hanging out treacherously. She smiled at Tall Boy, taking the jacket in her hand, dusting the Serpent logo. She should not be taking this step, she knew. But her recent hate-filled thoughts had fueled her actions in that moment, slipping the jacket on.

It fit like a glove.

~

Juliet had, of course, dumped the jacket at the trailer she was in, before rushing to the hospital after Ariel called her. The three of them were in the hospital, the rising sun slowly bringing light to the town. The events of the night were over, it seemed. Now it was time to face the consequences.

Ariel’s father hung on the cliff-face of death, the bullet lodged in his gut long gone by now. The monitors beeped ominously. Chester’s father was now a murderer, and Ben’s parents had abandoned a young child. Vermont’s deceitful father was coming back, and Juliet’s father was on the threshold of serving jail time.

For now, the three of them were beside Ariel, consoling her. Her cheeks for now dry of tears, her voice and hands still shook. She was calling her mother now, informing her of the doom that had befallen their family.

A sudden structured chaos erupted at the entrance. Several gurneys were rolled out, and a voice called out, “DOA! DOA!” One gurney was rolled out, and the first thing Vermont, Katrina, Ben, Ariel and Juliet noticed was the flaming red hair of Penelope Blossom.

Janet and Chester sauntered in, looking almost…tickled by the recent happenings of their family. Vermont stood up, alarmed, and called out to his friend. “Chester! What happened, are you alright?”

Chester folded his arms calmly, and took a small step away from his concerned friend.

“There was a tragic fire at Thornhill. The wind blew a curtain to the fireplace, and by the time Janet and I arrived, the entire mansion was in flames. My mother suffered severe third-degree burns, and my father…” he trailed off, making a huge show of grief. “My valiant father sacrificed his life to make sure my mother made it out of the mansion.” He was calm, almost apathetic.

“Are you alright?” Vermont asked, his voice not calm at all.

“My sister and I are alright, thank you. Now if you will excuse us,” he pushed Vermont aside, and Janet and Chester made their way to the operation theatre.

Katrina materialized beside him. “Is it just me, or did it sound like he was reciting a story?” 

~


	3. Chapter Twenty-Seven: Luxury of Truth

Fred Andrews was out of his critical state, and unconscious. The doctors were positive that he would make a full recovery. Ariel, meanwhile, was just beginning to start getting into a critical state of paranoia and anxiety.

When Fred Andrews came back to his residence, Mary Andrews was there. Of course, Fred had heard that Mary went by her maiden name now. Fred winced as he sat down in front of her when Ariel was in school. No danger of being overheard.

“Did you…did you tell her?” Mary asked him nervously.

“I was going to, but then…” he trailed off, looking at his ex-wife apologetically.

“It’s alright. We’ll tell her together. When the time is right,” Mary insisted.

~

That night, Ariel couldn’t sleep. She felt like she had to do something to protect her father. Her whole life she had relied on him to protect her, and now it felt like it was her turn. If she did not take any step at all to make sure her family was alright, she would never be able to forgive herself. She kept seeing those blazing, angry green eyes behind the mask. Even the most powerful of men would have cowered under that unadulterated rage inside.

Ariel felt like the shooting at Pop’s was the beginning of something terrifying in her town. She would need to be on high alert. She felt like the devilish hooded shooter was going to be back in her town very soon. It sent chills down her spine, thinking about looking at those green eyes again. There was no compassion in that emerald hue, Ariel knew that much. Whatever goal that the maniac was trying to accomplish, they would be an unstoppable force.

Ariel felt a steely determination overcome her.  _Then,_ she thought.  _I’ll have to be an immovable object._

Sitting up in her bed, she turned on her laptop. The internet was a lovely place for some paranoia-induced googling. But before she could indulge in her sudden interest in being the next cape-clad Riverdale hero, she noticed a new addition to her desktop. A word document added to her desktop, one that she did not remember making. Hesitantly, she clicked on [FREDANDREWS] and its properties.

Its title was, obviously, [FREDANDREWS], and it barely held any space on her 1 terabyte hard disk. It was barely 1 kilobyte. The most confusing thing was that it was only added an hour ago. Absurd, because the last time Ariel even used her laptop was two days ago. What the hell was this document? It was one page long only. It was in landscape format. There was only word in it, in the default Calibri font. It was the biggest font size, 72. It was completely in capital letters.

The word “GREED” yelled at her from her screen. Ariel stared at it, equal parts confused and terrified. What was this?

 _Who_  was this? She felt a dread overcome her, realizing that someone had been in her room, on her laptop, an hour ago.

Wait. That was impossible. She was here, tossing and turning, trying to get some sleep in her bed, an hour ago.

 _I’ve got a fucking hacker on my hands,_ she thought, horrified.

~

Gerard Grundy smiled at his newest find. Adrienne Matthews, music enthusiast, a freshman at Greendale High. She had blonde hair, blue eyes. An absolute Barbie doll. And she was so innocent, Gerard thought gleefully. He kissed her neck cheekily as she played piano in his apartment. She giggled, pretending that she was disturbed by him.

Gerard was perfectly fine with this arrangement. Greendale High did not have much of a music budget, so his…“projects” had to come to his apartment to further their interest in music.

He often found himself comparing Adrienne to his previous belt notch, Ariel Andrews. Appearance-wise, Adrienne was leagues ahead of Ariel. Even Ariel’s perfect crimson locks could not match Adrienne’s classic Barbie doll beauty. Adrienne was ahead of Ariel because she was easier to fool. Ariel had her gullible, insecure moments, but Adrienne lived a gullible, insecure life. Privileged, gullible, insecure. The triumvirate.

 _Fucking stupid Ariel,_ Gerard thought angrily. If it hadn’t been for her Janessa Blossom bullshit, he could have remained in Riverdale. Instead, he had to move to Greendale hastily.

He thought about his ex-wife, back when he was still Orlando Phil. What a bitch she was. The whole story he had recited to Ariel to convince her to not spill the beans to fucking Weatherbee had been a sham, of course. The plain thing was that his ex-wife was something of a moralist. She threw a classic feminist hissy fit when she caught him in bed with their sixteen-year-old babysitter. She threw him in jail, that entitled feminist slut. Five years of marriage had gone down the drain, and she had personally ensured that he served time in jail. She was a lawyer, after all. Until today, he didn’t understand how he could have married that overeducated scum.

 _See,_ Gerard thought.  _This is why women should stay at fucking home._ Gerard felt a rage course through his veins that made him dizzy. He knew at some point in time she would hunt him down, now that he was out of jail.  _I guess I’ll just have to kill her,_ Gerard thought gleefully. Little did his stupid ex-wife know, he looked forward to the day his hands could close around her grubby little neck. Adrienne’s intoxicating giggling brought Gerard back to the present, away from his murderous thoughts. That, and her tone-deaf piano playing.

In only one area, Ariel was leagues ahead of Adrienne. Ariel had plenty of musical talent. Adrienne couldn’t differentiate notes. Gerard had found himself actually falling in love with Ariel when he listened to her music. “Gerard,” Adrienne exhaled. “I think I should go home now.”

He grinned at her, kissing her. “Of course,” he nodded understandingly. They both stood up and he gave her his gift. A necklace, with her name as the pendant. He’d given Ariel one too, what a waste of money it was. But he would make things with Adrienne last. He had a strong feeling that even if he broke it off with Adrienne, the bimbo would come crawling back for him. He sighed inwardly, contentedly. That’s how it should be, of course. Gerard smiled, scratching the back of his head comically as he passed Adrienne the necklace. He knew the show of being shy and sincere would make her fall for him even more. She gasped and kissed him on the cheek. He pretended to blush, but inside he was thinking,  _I own you now, you stupid bimbo._ She immediately wore it around her neck and left his apartment.

Gerard sighed, smiling, and went to his kitchen to get a glass of scotch.  _I guess,_ Gerard thought.  _Ariel was better at this than Adrienne._ Ariel could stand him drinking, she even drank a couple of glasses with him. Adrienne was from an ultra-religious family and basically cried at the sight of alcohol. He laughed.  _Stupid bitch._

He didn’t notice the figure in the kitchen. He didn’t notice it come towards him, his own knife in hand. But he sure as hell noticed the sensation of a knife go in, the twisting pain of his guts being splintered by the cold hard metal, and he noticed the shooting pain as the killer twisted the knife around cruelly, chuckling in his ear. Gerard noticed his pathetic gurgling sound as he struggled fruitlessly against the maniac. His vision blurred, and he felt his pants getting damp, and he knew it wasn’t the scotch. When he became numb to the pain, he was thrown onto his own kitchen floor like a ragdoll, and he saw the face of his killer.

Green eyes smouldered with rage as a gruff voice spat, “Fucker.”

The face leaned down, and he got a closer look at the face. He didn’t even know who the hell it was. “Please,” he gurgled, his mouth full of blood, gagging on the metallic taste. He felt his life draining away from him.

The face tilted their head, pouting their lips, looking at him patronizingly. “Please what, Mr Pedophile?” the gruff voice spat at him. He tried to get some more words out, but all that warbled out was blood. The killer shook their head in disgust. “See you in hell, Gerard,” the voice said again.

Gerard Grundy died like that, on his floor, lying in a pool of his own bodily fluids as he wondered who the hell it was that decided to stab him in his own home.

~

Ariel sat, staring at the document that had been open for two hours, and licked her lips nervously. What was she supposed to do now? She looked at the internet and thought about some security software options. Most of the highly secure ones were expensive.

There was another option, of course. She could scour the internet and learn how to take control of her cybersecurity herself. It was ambitious, of course. First, she would have to learn how to code. Then she would have to figure out how to write her own programs, and who knew if she had the resources to make a proper anti-hacker software. Maybe it would be easier to figure out if Riverdale had a group of hackers. But who knew if this anonymous devil was a part of this group? She did not even know if it existed.

Another word document popped onto her page, titled, [GERARDGRUNDY]. This one was quite the same as the other one. Except for this time the word “LUST” screamed at her instead. She gasped and shut her screen down. She lay in her bed, feeling as violated of her privacy as one would when their house got burgled. She whimpered, terrified. This maniac…he was after her. Gerard was gone, her father was shot…who was next?

She shivered, sweeping away the thought. For now, the documents were a freak hacker, scaring her. Of course, that’s what it was! A loony with only one friend; his computer. That’s what this was, someone trying to make her paranoid, to make her crawl skin crawl with disgust and terror. A sicko, that’s what this was.

But even she knew this was a hopeful illusion she was giving herself. She felt her voice quiver as she whimpered, knowing instinctively that the second document that something terrible had happened to Gerard.

 _But I don’t feel sad about it,_ Ariel thought.

_Right?_

~

Katrina heard the news from her father and immediately went to Ariel, at her home. “It’s about that music teacher you were with. He was killed, inside his home in Greendale.”

Ariel’s immediate reaction was to shush Katrina’s loud voice, lest her parents hear. “Let’s walk to school,” Ariel insisted, taking her bag and setting out.

“You don’t seem very surprised,” Katrina eyed her friend suspiciously.

“I…” Ariel sighed. “Promise not to tell Ben?” she looked at Katrina.

“No,” she snorted. Ariel sighed. “Fair enough.”

“I got…a message. I think. From the shooter. Last night.”

Katrina stopped in her tracks. “What?” she gritted.

“Don’t freak out, I think it was a loony hacker,” Ariel assured.

“You need to tell someone,” Katrina insisted.

“Yeah, I am. I’m telling you.”

“No, someone of essence, like my father, the policeman!” Katrina admonished.

Ariel sighed, not saying anything to that. Katrina had a point, of course. But what could Sherriff Keller really do? She didn’t even have proof that it was the killer who had planted those documents into her computer. Maybe she had made them from her paranoia-induced haze. Who really knew?

~

Vermont passed the keys to the valet boy and walked into Pembrooke, burping. After all the craziness of the past few days, dinner at Pop’s with Ben was a normalcy he welcomed into his life.

Even the regularity of Pop’s was interrupted by the recent events in the town. Vermont shuddered as he remembered the garish graffiti somebody had sprayed onto the walls of the diner.  _Death diner._ Never mind that Fred Andrews had not died in the diner, or at all. He pitied Pop’s, who had received a grand total of zero customers since the shooting, excluding the two of them. He had said he was swinging close to the line of bankruptcy. If Pop’s had to close down…he couldn’t think about it. No. He simply could not let it happen. Ben and Vermont had thought about it. They would help rejuvenate the diner.

Thinking this, Vermont opened the door of his apartment, the dim lighting of the living room shrouding the two figures there.

“Father,” Vermont greeted, surprised. “I thought you weren’t supposed to come until tomorrow morning.”

“I thought I would come early for dinner and surprise you…but imagine my surprise when you never showed up,” Hiram Lodge said, the coldness clear in his voice.

Vermont looked at his mother, who was standing next to his father. “I texted you. I ate dinner with Ben at Pop’s.”

“I thought the rule was to call,” Hermione Lodge said, and suddenly Vermont realized he wasn’t talking to his mother anymore.

He was talking to Hiram Lodge’s wife.

“I apologize, father,” Vermont caved.

“You’re forgiven. Now, come here so I can greet my son properly,” Hiram smiled, the movement deceptively warm. Vermont walked over to his father, ignoring his mother’s sudden, hateful glare. Hiram thumped Vermont on the back like they were the classic middle-class American father-son duo. Hiram’s paternal grin didn’t escape Vermont’s sense of irony. But the sharper atmosphere in the room was Hermione’s disapproval of Hiram’s sudden leniency to Vermont. It was thick with her discontentment, Vermont could sense it.

“You know, Hiram,” she said, the poison basically dripping from her voice. “He drank your Cristal.”

“He did, did he?” Hiram asked, raising his eyebrow. He seemed conflicted between playing two roles. Who was he now? The typical indulgent father Riverdale expected him to be? Or the strict, no-nonsense businessman, the archetypal Lodge? Vermont gulped. Usually, he knew what to do, how to deal with his father. But he was in uncharted territory here. His father was trying to be a good person. Vermont didn’t like it. He’d made the decision already. When it came to his parents, he was going to play dirty.

“Bottles of alcohol rarely have names on them in our household, father,” Vermont decided to say, taking the risky route.

Surprisingly, Hiram laughed. “You’ve cultivated quite the tongue in this small town, haven’t you?” Vermont heard the real words he meant to say.  _Never talk back to me again._

“Hiram,” Hermione said, in the same poisonous tone. “Are there any rules you want to change or introduce to Vermont?” Vermont looked at his mother, and then at his father. They had discussed this, it seemed.

Hiram looked confused. “Why should I? He seems to be doing just fine.” Hermione glared at her husband.

Vermont allowed himself a small smile. Hiram’s arrival had started the unlikeliest of wars between him and his mother.

Their son went into his room and Hiram turned to scowl at his wife, who cowered. “Is it just me or did you try to turn me against my son?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. I won’t tolerate that, Hermione. I don’t know what rapport you have with him, but I plan to make amends. And if you stand in my way…I hope you understand.”

“Of course. I apologize.”

“Good. Did I mention that my gift looks amazing on you?” Hermione’s hand flew self-consciously to the line of pearls on her neck.  _It’s a noose, Hiram,_ she wanted to say.

“Thank you,” she said instead.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Here's the first two chapters + prologue...not as good as my Christmas delight (but was it really a delight?) but I don't want to bombard you with shit. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this. 
> 
> If you haven't read Riverbent...you're going to need to read it before you read this. 
> 
> ~dangpankoozie


	4. Chapter Twenty-Eight: Manipulations

Juliet sat inside the lawyer’s office, listening to the man talk. Some of the legal jargon went right over her head, but she knew even with Clifford Blossom’s involvement, her father was going away for a long time.

“The main thing influencing the jury right now is the Blossom family. Their coldness and unforgiving stance is hurting our case the most.”

“But that’s absurd. Clifford Blossom killed Janessa. My father was blackmailed into helping him hide the body.”

“That’s a theory, Juliet, which we cannot prove. Yes, Clifford Blossom killed Janessa, but was your father blackmailed or was he involved from the beginning?”

“It’s not a theory. I know this to be the truth.”

Wilbur Mehra, the lawyer, looked at Juliet like she was an impertinent teen who had no idea what she was talking about. “I see. Well, Ms. Jones, I do have one suggestion.” Juliet leaned in, ready to absorb every single word.

“If we could get a positive testimony about your father from one of the Blossoms, it could turn the jury around.”

Juliet leaned back, biting her lip. It was time to talk to Chester Blossom, it seemed.

~

Ben and Vermont sat inside Vermont’s room in the Pembrooke, working on their plan to restore Pop’s.

“We need to have a gala or something,” Vermont scratched his head.

“This isn’t New York, Monty, we don’t have galas. We need to have a celebration or a party,” Ben said.

“Those are synonyms of gala,” Vermont snapped, to which Ben laughed.

“Well, we need to have a reviving party. We should call it…” Ben thought of a name.

“The Reopening of Pop’s,” Vermont said, his eyes betraying his lightbulb moment.

Ben and Vermont beamed at each other. _Eureka,_ they both thought.

Hiram Lodge knocked on the door. “Come in, Father,” Vermont said. Hiram stood in the doorway and smiled. “What are you two discussing behind closed doors?”

Ben smiled politely at Hiram Lodge. He didn’t look very criminal at all. Well, Clifford Blossom didn’t either, at Janessa’s funeral. “Hello, Mr Lodge,” he greeted. Hiram smiled at his son’s friend.

Vermont barely looked up at his father. “Why are you asking? I think you already know,” Vermont said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Hiram smirked, despite being caught red-handed. “Oh, what can I say, dearest son? The Pembrooke has thin walls. So,” he said, making his way over to the bed and sitting down, “how can I help? I’m sure this party you two are planning requires some cash?”

“Actually,” Ben began, but Vermont interrupted. “It’s not going to be that easy to buy my forgiveness, father.”  

 “I wouldn’t dream of that,” Hiram said. “It’s a personal investment!”

“We can do it on our own, Father,” Vermont said, in a tone that left little room for negotiation. Hiram’s excited look dropped. Ben felt almost sorry for him. He was trying to help, after all. Hiram sighed, and left the room without a word.

Ben looked at Vermont awkwardly, wanting to break the silence. “Don’t fall for his act. He’s still the same man who embezzled millions for his own gain.”

Ben nodded. “But we do need the money, Vermont. Pop’s won’t be able to make enough food without cash. He’s been running at a loss the past week, and he needs money to buy ingredients and stuff, and plus decorations, advertisement,” Ben trailed off.

Vermont looked at the closed door of his room with resentment. “Don’t worry. I have a feeling that Pop’s is going to have an influential, affluent investor very soon.”

Ben looked at his friend, confused. “If I accepted my father’s help, I lose my pride. I reject him, he loses his and goes behind my back to help me anyways. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he’ll go behind my back to help himself.” He looked at his friend, a calculating expression overcoming him.

“This way, I don’t lose my pride, and our party gets some cash flow anyway.” His tone then changed. “Do you think Kat can design some flyers to give out in school? And we’ll leave them in mailboxes after school,” Vermont planned. Ben was taken aback from this side of Vermont. The Lodge side of Vermont. All of a sudden, he was very, very, wary of him.

“It’s not right to use your parents like this,” Ben said.

“Ah Cooper, ever the moralist. The rules change when your parents have used you for your whole life.”

 _No, they don’t,_ Ben thought. But he kept his mouth shut.

~

“Yeah, I did as you said.”

“Thanks. I bet that really spooked her.”

“I think spooked is an understatement.”

A laugh.

“You killed the teacher? Why? I thought you said you weren’t going to kill anyone?”

“He was disgusting. I hated him. He deserved to die. All those poor girls. Andrews included.”

“So now you’re a murderer.”

“Don’t.”

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“Why? Are you going to stop helping me?”

A sigh. “I’ll never stop helping you. You know that.”

“I do. Don’t worry.”

“But I do. I worry. This is a very dangerous game you’re playing.”

“I know. I miss you.”

A sigh. “Me too.”

Click.

~

Juliet sat on the bench with Vermont and Ben. “How’s the reopening planning going?”

“It’s…going,” Ben said, glancing at Vermont. He was angry today because Pop’s had called him.

“What about money? I bet you guys will have to organize a fundraiser.”

Vermont rolled his eyes. “An anonymous buyer bought Pop’s from Pop Tate. So now we have endless cash for this reopening.”

“You don’t seem very happy about this amazingly good news.”

Vermont smirked humorlessly, and Juliet shared a revealing look with Ben. “Oh,” Juliet smiled, unable to hide her amusement. “I see.”

“How ‘anonymous’ of this buyer,” Juliet chuckled. Vermont snorted. Ben looked at his two friends, surprised. Vermont and Juliet were handling this with…humor. Ben noted this was something both of them did.  

“Well, Mr Lodge,” Juliet said. “Cash is cash. Now the show can go on.” Vermont looked at Juliet, conveying a look that said that perhaps she was right.  

Juliet cleared her throat. “On a more serious note, I need your help,” Juliet said to her two friends.

Vermont and Ben looked at Juliet, concerned. “I had a talk with the lawyer, and he said that without a forgiving testimony from the Blossom family my dad has little to no chance.”

“You want to ask…Chester,” Vermont guessed.

“Well, Penelope Blossom is in a coma and Janet Blossom is most probably a joint hallucination so Chester it is,” Juliet joked.

“You had this on your mind, and you asked us about Pop’s first?” Ben asked, slightly annoyed.  

“Hey!” Juliet protested. “Vermont’s daddy issues are just as important as mine!” Vermont laughed out loud, startling Ben.

“Okay, we’ll ask Chester together after school,” Ben nodded. Vermont smiled at Juliet reassuringly. “I’ll be there.”  

~

The Riverdale High swim team sat in the bleachers for a meeting after practice that day, enjoying the cold wind. Ariel was present, for the first time in forever.

“I need your help,” Ariel pleaded to Rachel Mantle, the swim team captain.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Rachel grinned.

“I’ve been thinking…we should start a patrol group,” Ariel asked.

“Patrol group?” Rachel asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Like. At night, we could just drive around, make sure the streets are safe,” Ariel said.

“This is Riverdale, Andrews. The streets _are_ safe,” Rachel said.

“There’s a shooter out there, Rach,” Ariel said. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Oh. I see what this is. This is paranoia.”

“No! It’s not! Gerard Grundy is dead! My father was shot! Who knows who is next?” Ariel yelled.

“Calm down, Andrews. This patrol idea would just induce paranoia in the rest of the team and the town.”

“Rachel, trust me. We should do this. We should do something,” Ariel said.

“Why don’t you appoint the football team to play hero?” Rachel asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I thought you were always about girl power, Rach,” Michelle, who was also on the swim team, asked.

“And I still am! Except football season is over and we’ve got to start gearing up for our competition!” Rachel said.

“Right now Riverdale has a big storm coming. It’ll be the shooter’s hunting season and we’ll be dead meat,” Ariel said, pleading.

“There is no one after you, or me, or any of us,” Rachel said, equally as desperate to rid Ariel of this train of thought.

“You’ve always had my back, Rach,” Ariel tried one last time.

“And I always will, Ariel. But right now I need you to have this team’s back. Last season you were AWOL. Coach told me that if you do that again he’ll kick you off the team. I don’t want you to be kicked off the team. None of us want you to leave the team. I’m asking you to please, focus on your swimming for once, Ariel,” Rachel asked.

“I…I can’t,” Ariel said without much explanation.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Well, Coach says you don’t have much choice in it.”

Ariel sighed. “Get some rest, Ari. You’re almost a junior now, you’re not FBI. You’ll have to start thinking about university. You’ll need a couple of medals to have an impressive portfolio. Come on, Ariel, please,” Rachel begged.

“What if one of us gets shot?” Ariel challenged.

“That’s not going to happen,” Rachel snapped.

“But, hypothetically, what if it does?”

“Then we’ll see,” Rachel said, indulging Ariel.

Ariel nodded. She would have to be content with holding a baseball bat and staying at the door for now.

~

Juliet, Vermont and Ben headed to Chester’s new home. Vermont rang the bell. A minute later, Chester opened the door.

“Hobo, groom of the hobo,” he greeted Juliet and Ben.

“And…second groom of hobo?” Chester asked. “Are you guys in a polyamorous thing? The three of you? Where’s Andrews? It’d be rude to exclude her from this, you know.” he said.

“We’re here to talk,” Ben said.

“No, Benjamin, thanks. I don’t want to join your polyamorous foursome. If you ask me, it should be Andrews,” Chester said.

“Are you going to let us in, or not?” Juliet asked, annoyed.

 Chester chuckled. “Welcome to Thistle House, gruesome twosome plus one,” Chester said.

The three of them made their way in. They sat at the table, where Chester had been doing homework. _Scholar Blossom back at it again,_ Vermont thought, smiling.

“Um,” Chester said, clearing the table hurriedly. “Excuse me.” He quickly stacked the mess up into piles of work. Notes, flash cards, highlighters were quickly shuffled away from their eyes.

“Chester Blossom, the closet mugger. Who would have thought?” Ben said, in awe.

“If you looked in my closet, you’d find a lot of things,” Chester joked.

“Skeletons?” Juliet asked sarcastically.

“My own!” Chester laughed.

Vermont and Ben shared an incredulous look. Chester and Juliet, getting along? That was absurd.

“So,” Chester sat down. “Let’s see. Juliet is in love with Romeo, who’s in love with plus one, who’s in love with the redhead, who’s in love with Juliet! How classic,” Chester smiled, mocking.

Juliet rolled her eyes.

“How’s your mother, Chester?” Vermont asked, breaking the jovial atmosphere.

Chester looked at Vermont, suddenly looking stricken. “Why she’s doing fine, thank you for asking, Vermont.” Vermont’s eyebrows knitted themselves, at the formal tone. Perhaps Juliet and Ben’s presence did not put Chester in a comfortable spot.

“I…I need your help, Chester,” Juliet said. Chester looked at Juliet, gesturing for her to go on. Ben looked nervously from the redheaded menace to his girlfriend. This conversation could go either way.

Janet then came in, placing herself right next to Chester. “Chester, you didn’t tell me your friends were here!”

“Well,” Chester said awkwardly. “They’re here.” Janet smiled at Chester. “So, Juliet, you were saying,” Janet asked.

“My father’s trial date has been set,” Juliet said hesitantly, tasting the atmosphere. Tense, but she could cut her way through it. Chester’s jaw locked, Ben’s nervous glances, Vermont’s concerned expression for his friend and Janet’s comically calm, happy and hospitable demeanour was contributing to it.

“And the lawyer says that without a forgiving testimony from a Blossom, he’ll be jailed for a very, very long time,” Juliet said. “I was hoping that Chester, you would help me out.”

Chester rolled his eyes. “Oh, Jones, you disappoint me. Of course not. He’s a criminal, and his sentence is fair. So you can go to hell.”

Juliet leaned back, licking her lips, nervous from the rejection. “You three are ridiculous,” Janet snapped.

“He helped kill our sister! You think my brother will stand in the way of the justice that he wants? That’s outrageous.” Janet continued.

“Ch-” Vermont tried to say.

“Always. Always, Vermont, you choose them over me. So you know what? All three of you can just go to hell. I want to watch him rot in jail, Juliet.”

Juliet’s breath caught in her throat, hearing those words. _I want to watch him rot in jail._ Ben was fuming, a protective hand of his on hers. “You really think he’s that guilty? You know what your beloved father did, Chester? He blackmailed FP. He said that if FP didn’t come and help cover his tracks, he’ll kill Juliet the same way he killed Janessa. So if you’re going to send him to jail for protecting his daughter, then you’re the ridiculous and outrageous one here,” Ben snapped.         

Chester’s expression changed, became sympathetic from hateful. “I didn’t kn-” he began to say apologetically. Janet noticed this and immediately interrupted. “Oh, fuck off, Cooper. You’re not going to get forgiveness from him,” Janet said.

Ben nodded. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out the family picture.

“I seem to remember Janet is a family secret. A secret child, that would definitely be a nice scoop for the Sun of Riverdale,” Ben grinned maliciously. The other three looked at Ben, stunned. Janet sighed, taking the picture from Ben’s hand and looking at it.

Then, in one fast motion, she crumpled it and threw it into the burning fireplace. “Oops,” she smiled, the hospitable and welcoming expression gone. The fact that Janet was a Blossom was clear. Chester stared at the picture flare up in flames, fueling the warm fireplace, with his jaw dropped.

Ben stood up, horrified. Then, the expression changed, turning into spite. Then, he slammed the table, both palms slamming onto the wooden surface. He loomed menacingly over the two Blossoms at the other side of the table. “Do you take me for a damn fool, Blossom? I have physical copies, hidden all over my house. I have soft copies in my computer, in flash drives I’ve hidden in separate places. If you don’t testify, you end up on the front page of Riverdale’s newspaper.” He threatened the two of them in a calm voice. It would have been less threatening if he had shouted. The calm, collected demeanour showed that he was not to be messed with.

Juliet’s hand shot up, pulling Ben down, looking disapprovingly at Ben. She couldn’t even recognize him anymore. She knew Ben. But this was Benedict Cooper. This was something Alice Cooper would do. Maybe genetics was real.

“I’ll do it,” Chester said, in a small voice, shaking.

“No, Chester,” Juliet said. “If you don’t want to, you shouldn’t.”

“Yeah. If you don’t want to, you’ll end up on the front page. That’s what you attention-loving Blossoms always want, isn’t it?” Ben said, and winked.

Juliet and Vermont stared at their friend, their horrified moods betrayed by their expressions. Janet smirked at Ben. “You’re a stone-cold bitch, Benedict,” she spat.

Chester gulped, terrified. “I’ll do it. Please, don’t, don’t do that,” he said, his voice quivering uncharacteristically. Ben smiled, satisfied.

“Thank you, Chester,” Ben said politely as if he hadn’t threatened them cruelly just now.

Juliet stood up, pulling Ben away. “Come on, we should get out,” she said, ashamed. Vermont stood up, giving Chester an apologetic look.

Juliet, Vermont and Ben started to leave, when Chester said, “Juliet?” She turned around, looking at him.

“I’m sorry. For how I accused you, of hurting Janessa. I’m really sorry,” he said, still looking shaken by Ben’s outburst. Janet stared daggers at Chester, outraged that he was apologizing to the slum dweller.

Juliet took a deep breath, nodded.

~


	5. Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Reopening

Juliet shoved Ben out of Thistle House, Vermont trailing behind. “Well done,” Juliet said, clapping. “You blackmailed a trauma victim with the very thing that traumatized him. Well-fucking-done,” she said, clapping.

Benedict rolled his eyes. Confounded, Juliet slapped him. “What the hell is going on with you, Ben? You really think you did the right thing?”  Vermont gasped, pulling Juliet back.

“You slapped me,” Ben said, looking wounded. 

 “You fucking deserve it. I can’t even recognize you right now, Benedict Cooper,” Juliet spat.

Benedict looked at Juliet, aggrieved. “Julie…”

Juliet struggled against Vermont’s strong grasp, and then shoved him aside. “You tell him, Vermont. Did he do the right thing?”

Vermont looked at both his friends. _Of course not,_ he wanted to say. But that wasn’t the complete picture.

“Your father is innocent, Juliet. Sure, it wasn’t the right thing, but that barely matters. You got your testimony.”

“No! My father,” she yelled and then grabbed Ben’s face in her hands. “My father, listen to me, my father, is very much guilty of being an accessory to murder.” She let go of Ben’s face. “If he didn’t want to testify, then we should have left it at that!”

Ben looked at Juliet, his conscience still clear. “You’ll thank me in the future, Julie,” he said self-importantly.

Juliet ignored the comment. “You know what horrified me the most? You came prepared, Ben. You thought this through. It wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. Physical copies around the house. Soft copies in your computer and flash drives. You did all that. You came prepared, Ben.”

Ben refused to look at Juliet. He knew he did the right thing. He would not, no, he would not be tricked into apology with Juliet’s hurt look. Sometimes the hard thing is the right thing. Ben didn’t reply. Juliet shook her head, baffled. She then turned around and left, without a word. Ben looked up, stung. He looked at Vermont, for some kind of consolation.

“She had a point, Ben. It wasn’t the right thing.”

“Yeah, just like how manipulating your own father isn’t the right thing either. But you did that anyway,” Ben snapped. Vermont was taken aback. That was uncalled for.  

“Fuck. You. Benedict. Cooper.” And with that, Ben watched his friend walk away from him as well.

He looked back at Thistle House, and saw Chester’s figure watching the fallout. The same tormented expression was still on his face, and for a split second, he understood why Juliet and Vermont said it wasn’t the right thing.

But they were wrong.

 ~

 

Chester sat, the microphone in front of his face, looming. He licked his lips nervously, tapped the microphone. He looked in the seats, where Ben was looking at him expectantly.

“On behalf of my mother and me, I would like to say that we both forgive Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Second for helping my father ensure the truth about Janessa’s death stay hidden. We recognize his innocence and we request that he be acquitted of all charges.”

The jury was taken aback. A proverbial twist in the proceedings, it seemed. Ben nodded at Chester. Juliet was next to him, looking at her palms. FP looked shocked, and he was staring at Chester.

The prosecutor went up to the judge and objected. “Despite this…turn in the Blossoms’ stance, the bottom line is that Mr. Jones did, in fact, hide Janessa Blossom’s body in Sweetwater River and helped burn Janessa Blossom’s car, which had evidence of Clifford Blossom’s illegal business. He is guilty of all charges.”

Chester threw a panicked look Ben’s way. Ben’s expression said _be useful, or…_

Chester hurriedly said. “But FP Jones is innocent. My father blackmailed him into being involved in my sister’s murder. He told him that if he did not follow as my father said, he would kill Juliet Jones, his daughter. So you see, he’s not as guilty as you all think.”

That was all it took. The second turn was enough to buy FP Jones some time, as the judge paused the proceedings and scheduled another hearing date, giving both the defense and prosecution some time to revise their cases and find more witnesses and evidences. But the atmosphere in the courtroom was clear. This was a certain affirmative turn in FP’s case.

FP stood up, surprised and elated that he finally had a chance. Chester watched the father and daughter duo share a hug, a signal of new beginnings.

He looked at Ben, who was staring right at him. Ben nodded, a small smile on his face. Chester smiled back.

~

There was a celebratory air inside Pop’s. Vermont, Juliet and Ben were sitting in their booth, taking a break from their shift. The diner was slowly filling up with people, and the Riverlads were gearing up for their performance. “I don’t know about you, Ben,” Vermont said, “but this smells like a gala to me.” Ben chuckled, and looked at Juliet, who was smiling.

“I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly.

Juliet turned to him, and the regret was clear on his face. She sighed, and leaned into him, her head tucked on his shoulder. Vermont was focusing on the door, ignoring their warm exchange. “What’s up, Monty?” Ben asked.

Vermont looked away from the door, and then shook his head. “Oh, nothing…it’s just…Ariel…”

Juliet sighed. “She might not come. This is a death diner to her, after all.” Vermont nodded, pursing his lips. Ben stood up, dusting his pants and said it was time to return to his shift. Juliet nodded and the two of them returned to clearing tables and handing out complimentary fries and milkshakes. The dark-haired boy sat at the booth, staring at the fries and drinks angrily. All courtesy of the non-anonymous anonymous buyer. He sighed, leaning his head on the plush faux leather seat of the booth. He had manipulated his father. But the truth was he barely had any hope that his rejection would actually work out like that. He was operating based on his expectations of old Hiram, the one who was both aloof and desperate to please at the same time. The Hiram his father claimed did not exist anymore. But this was proof that a leopard can never change his spots.

The bell at the door rang out, and Vermont saw Ariel walk in, her hands buried in the pockets of her Riverdale Swim Team tracksuit. He almost tripped over himself as he rushed his way over to her. “I missed you, stranger,” he greeted her, grinning.

She smiled, the joy not quite reaching her eyes. He pulled her in for a hug, and kissed her forehead. “How have you been?”

Ariel pulled back, and said, “I’m fine,” in a way that suggested to him that she was not at all. Instead of pressing it, he led her to the outdoor concert.

Ariel was glad that he had, because the moment she had stepped into the diner, all she could see was the heap of blood that had been on the floor not too long ago. All she could see was her father fall on his knees, his hands shivering, covered with his own blood. All she could see was the hooded maniac’s green eyes gleaming. So she was glad that they were outside, breathing in the fresh air and listening to the local band sing. She could pretend that she was alright that way, outside. Inside the diner?

Not at all.

~

Rachel walked over to Martin’s car, knocked on the glass. Michelle, who was in the driver’s seat, rolled down the window. “You got the stuff?” Martin asked.

Rachel grinned, holding up a discrete brown paper bag. “Have I ever let you guys down, Marty?” she asked. Marty grinned, handing her a thick wad of money. Michelle immediately opened the brown bag, beaming with excitement at the things inside. “You never let me down, Rach,” she said, and Rachel smiled. She winked, saying, “Don’t get too horny, lovebirds.”

The two of them wasted no time to drive away from the rest of the town at Pop’s, into the forest. Katrina, who was at the event, watched the car drive away. Michelle had moved on fast, it seemed. It broke Katrina’s heart. First Josephine was forced to run away from her to Arizona, and now Michelle was with Martin again.

The next time Katrina would see Michelle, it would be in a hospital.

~

The whole town was at Pop’s, it seemed. Chester and Janet, however, were at the hospital, visiting their mother. She had finally regained consciousness. She had bandages all over her face, so she could not talk. That worked for Chester just fine. This time, he was going to talk, and his mother was going to listen. This was his chance to show Janet that he had a spine. This was his chance to show Penelope that he was not going to suffer in silence any longer.

Inside the ward, Chester and Janet looked at their sleeping mother. That was apparently all she ever did, sleep.

“Mother,” Chester said softly. Her eyes fluttered open, and they looked emotionlessly at her two children.

“I just…Janet and I wanted to say something,” Chester said.

He looked at his sister nervously, who nodded reassuringly. Gathering his courage, he started to say his words.

“First of all, I want to let you know that you and daddy were abusive parents. You barely looked after my physical health, and you locked me out in a torrential downpour. It’s a surprise I am alive right now. I was starving myself, and asked for help, but you turned me away. Now it’s my turn to get better. I want to say that all my life, you’ve been controlling me.”

Penelope reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, beginning to unwrap her bandage. Chester pushed the glass of water away. Her hand stretched out for it, yet he held it out away from her. “If you will live, it is because I let you. Every single drop of water you drink, it will be because of my mercy.” He then helped his mother drink from the glass, making sure he did everything. He wanted to make sure his mother felt helpless, just like he had, outside in the rain that day.

After Chester tightened the bandage around his mother’s face, the look of revulsion on his face sent a chill down her spine. Penelope’s eyes widened in fear, and stared at her son. Chester looked at Janet, who had walked over to the other side of the bed. Her eyes had an indescribable emotion in them, a mix of fear and pride. Chester loved it. It fueled him. He bent over his mother, who by now, had tears in her eyes. “Every breath you take, mommy,” he hissed, his voice low. He pinched the oxygen tube attached to her oxygen mask, stemming the flow. Her eyes dripped of panic as she started to suffocate. Her chest rose, anxious for oxygen. He grinned uncheerfully as she struggled to inhale. “It is because I let you breathe.”

With that said, he left the ward, knowing fully well that Janet was right behind him. A giddy confidence overcame him, making him shake slightly as he walked. The look of admiration on his sister’s face and undiluted terror in his mother’s eyes gave him a deep satisfaction which, he knew, came from the darkest recesses of his mind. He knew what he had just done made him a bad person. But it did not make him a victim. He was fine with being a bad person, but he could not take a single second of being a victim. Those days of his were over.

~

Martin and Michelle were inside Michelle’s car, their hands all over each other. They had quickly finished taking the Dixy Sticks, and now could not wait a moment longer.

The feeling of ecstasy from the drugs fueled their hands as they moved of their own accord. They were blind to everything else in the world. They didn’t see the hooded figure move to their car, even when he was clearly seen in the rearview mirror. They didn’t see him aim the gun right at the two of them, and they sure as hell did not see the bullet fly and hit Michelle.

The last thing Martin saw was his bloody phone screen as he struggled to dial the three numbers, his fingers slipping because they were covered with Michelle’s blood.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but eventful chapter. Leave some comments and kudos maybe?


	6. Chapter Thirty: Run, Kat, Run

The doctors would say that it was a blessing that Katrina had chosen that night to go jogging, because if it had not been for her, perhaps Michelle would not have made it alive.

Katrina had gone jogging in the woods when she heard the gunshot. No, she did not see the hooded figure, she could not possibly guess who it was. The first thing she heard after the gunshot was Martin’s scream, and she had run towards the sound. She had stumbled right into Martin, who had Michelle’s blood all over his clothes and was struggling to dial the ambulance with his fingers covered in blood. Katrina had rushed into the car, and driven Michelle’s bleeding body in the passenger seat to the Riverdale Hospital at illegal speeds, with Martin sobbing in the backseat and Michelle murmuring anxiously, struggling to stay conscious. 

The two of them, shaken, had dragged Michelle’s body, similar to how Ariel had dragged her father a few days earlier, into the emergency room. If it had not been for Katrina’s quick thinking, the doctors would say later, Michelle could have suffered some permanent damage, if she had not already died.

Katrina told her friends later that she had gone jogging late at night to clear her head. She had to begin work with the debate team soon, and she wanted to prepare. She would say later that she tried to keep her body as healthy as possible so she could wipe the floor during debate competitions with her words. But the truth was that Katrina had a date, from a dating site, waiting for her in the woods. They had hooked up. Katrina knew this was dangerous. Internet anonymity was a weapon, she knew. And she was merely sixteen, she could not possibly think it was safe.

But she didn’t care. After Josephine left, Katrina was left fumbling. And this was her way out. So, for now, the debate lie would have to do. A few minutes of respite from the wretchedness was worth the risk. It was slowly, but surely, going to become an addiction, she knew. But she would have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

~

Katrina walked in to a conversation in the break room, about the shooting. Her friends had heard the news.

“It’s fucking terrifying, that’s what it is,” Katrina heard Vermont say.

Katrina walked in, hesitantly. “Oh, Kat!” Ariel leapt up, hugging her.

“Are you alright?” Ben asked, concerned.

“I didn’t get shot, clearly. If that’s what you mean…” Katrina trailed off.

“No, as in…how the hell did you find them?”

Katrina sighed. She would have to repeat this lie for a long time. “I went jogging,” she stated simply. Not a lie. Yet.

“Jogging?” Vermont asked, eyebrow raised. Ben mirrored the expression.

“Yeah, you know, to prep for debate,” Katrina stammered nervously.

“To prep,” Vermont asked with the same wry tone as before.

“For debate?” Ben asked, clearly not believing the lie.

“Healthy body, healthy mind, you know. To make sure I don’t fall sick,” Katrina said.

“Oh, of course, makes sense,” Vermont said, nodding. Katrina heaved a sigh of relief in her head. She didn’t notice Ben continue to stare at her with a suspicious look.

“Well, you’re alright, so that’s what matters,” Ariel smiled.    

Katrina smiled. “Michelle’s going to be alright soon, too,” she informed. They nodded, the worried looks not getting off of their faces.

Chester, at the other corner of the room, smiled as well. But not for the same reason.

~

“I wonder where’s Juliet,” Ben said at lunch later that day.

Vermont looked nervously at Ariel. “What?” he snapped.

“I didn’t know Juliet didn’t tell you…” Ariel said.

“Tell me what?” Ben yelled.

“Calm down, Ben,” Vermont said.

“Well, now that FP’s going to jail for a couple of months, she’s going to be with a foster family. And she has to go to Southside High,” Ariel explained.

“South. Side. High?” Ben hissed through gritted teeth.

“She’ll be back soon,” Vermont tried to reason with him.

“She’ll return a member of the Serpents,” Ben snapped.

“Oh, give her some credit. She knows that bad effects of being in a gang. She won’t do that,” Ariel said exasperatedly. Ben rolled his eyes, ignoring the grating feeling of suddenly being abandoned.

~

Juliet carried the tray of food in her hand, looking at the two sides of the canteen. The ones on the left, she knew, were the Serpents. They were laughing at a joke that Juliet was sure was morose. She did not think any genuine, humoured laughter ever came out of their throats. But the right side was a scene worth watching. While the Serpents sat in one big huddle, there were clear cliques in the other gang’s space. And there was a hurried muttering from them. No laughter. No sense of family that gang members fell in love with. She thought about the other gang. What was the name? Ah, yes. The Ghoulies. Juliet thought about her position, in the middle of the no-mans land between the two of them. It seemed that there was a cartoonish black line drawn in the middle of the canteen, prohibiting any sort of interaction between the two. If the Southside was Verona, then the Serpents were the Capulets and the Ghoulies were the Montagues.

Juliet thought about swerving to the left. But why should she have to choose? Her father was a gang member, and living with him, she had zero desire to join a gang. For now, she decided, the Scooby Gang would have to do. She glanced at the small tables outside, which weren’t labelled Serpent or Ghoulies. She smiled with satisfaction and had her lunch there. The resenting glare of both the sides did not escape her. But she was only going to be here for five months. She had time to dangle her membership in front of both sides so that they would not bother her. She could do this.

Just then, her phone vibrated crazily. She sighed. Ben. She knew Ariel would have told Vermont, who would have told Ben. Her timer had run out.

She picked her phone up.

“Ben,” she said, instead of greeting.

“I don’t know what to be more pissed off at. The fact that you didn’t tell me, or the fact that you just agreed with your social worker to go to that God-forsaken school. Where the hell is your sense of self-preservation, Juliet?”

“You could have said, ‘Hey, Juliet’. Or ‘Hello’, first,” Juliet said wryly.

“Hey, Juliet, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, the anger clear in his tone.

“I didn’t have a choice, Ben. It’s the damn law I’m following,” Juliet said, exasperated at his lack of understanding.

“Promise me that you’re going to stay far away from the Serpents.”

“I promise. If it makes you feel better, you should know that I’m not sitting with them, or any gang at all. I’m something of a lone wolf,” she said.

“That does not make me feel better,” Ben said.

“Where’s that sense of humour I’m dating you for?”

“I thought it was my Sherlock Holmes skills.”

“Ah, there it is.”

Ben chuckled.

“Don’t worry, please. I’m going to be fine. It’s just five months.”

“150 days, 3600 hours, 216000 minutes, 12960000 seconds.”

“Am I supposed to praise your math or be worried about you being worried?”

“You don’t have to be worried about me,” he said tersely.

Juliet sighed. “I’m not.”

“Good.”

“Please don’t fret, Ben,” Juliet pleaded.

“No guarantees, but I’ll try.”

“Good. I need to try and eat this mush. Trust me, it’s going to be this shit food that’s going to kill me, not the Serpents or the Ghoulies.”

“Ghoulies? What’s that? Is that a gang? Oh my goodness, Juliet, is that a rival ga-” he rushed, panicking.

“Bye, Ben,” she said quickly, and then hung up.

She tried to eat the mush, but she doubted it was meant to be edible. She gave up, letting the spoon sink dejectedly into the intimidating bowl of green nothing. She looked down at the recent book she was reading, refusing to look up, praying that no one would bother her.

~

After school, Juliet went into the room that her English teacher had said she could use to revive the Red and Black, which was their school paper. She’d even told Ben about it, asking him for help, hoping he could bring some things that could help her feel like it was a proper office rather than an abandoned classroom. Ben had jumped at the chance, especially because he felt like it was a chance to see what kind of horrendous condition Juliet was forced to be educated in.

To be very honest, Juliet was not devastated that she had to go to the Southside and live there. Her foster family were the reluctant kind, they had most definitely signed up a long time ago in a dizzy state of wanting to give charity. Something they never had the heart to actually carry out. Riverdale barely had any kids up for adoption, so they must have thought that even their insincere registration to become a foster family would not bring much burden to them, but she had shown up at their door. They left her alone for the most part, treating her like a paying guest that did not pay. She was given the whole basement for her “shenanigans”, as her host, Mrs Watson had said. And there was even an old-fashioned trapdoor-like contraption in the backyard to which she had the key. It was an uneasy arrangement, but she was grateful she was not handed off to a guilty privileged North-sider who would coo at her like she was an abandoned baby instead of a legal adult. And the huge basement was almost a no-mans land, giving her the privacy she would never get anywhere else. Besides the living situation, the school was fine too. Besides, she’d been curious about the illicit dealings of the Blossom business, Juliet was glad she could stay at the place where the drugs concentrated, and probably find some answers to her questions.

Setting up her first newspaper at the school was the result of two desires. The first was the desire to actually have some place of belonging at school, to not feel like she was a fish out of the water, even though she was. Of course, signing up to be the editor of a dead paper in a school where most students had gang tattoos was a considerable misstep on her part. But she had made a promise to Ben to not join the Serpents. Moreover, she knew her father would be crushed if he realized she had joined a gang. He had made it clear that he never wanted her anywhere near the Southside Serpents, and he could not possibly be too happy that she dancing at their doorstep. Of course, he barely had much say in the matter, given that he was in jail. The second was the need to find out who was the Dixyman, the name Juliet had given to the main source of the drugs. Clifford Blossom was merely a big dealer, but he was not the manufacturer. She had to track the dealers to their manufacturers.     

Juliet thought with a wince how she had decided not to tell Ben that she was changing schools. She was still confused about why she had done that. It was not like it was very efficient to tell Ariel, who would tell Ben. In fact, Juliet was thinking she would not make it to the first day of her new school without Ben confronting her. Juliet knew it was nothing about Ben being angry about her moving. She simply had no choice, and Ben would understand that. She had been planning to tell Ben, but she’d sent the text to meet her at Pop’s after she got the news to just Ariel, deleting Ben from the “send” list at the last minute. Juliet barely indulged in impulse, and she had chosen the most dangerous impulse to fall prey to. Somewhere Juliet felt like she did not tell Ben because she was unexpectedly comfortable with the idea of going to school at the Southside. She did not feel too apprehensive about the idea, in fact, she felt a little relieved she would not have to bear the judgmental stares of the Northside kids at Riverdale High. She almost felt like she belonged more amongst these ragtag rebels with causes rather than the prim and proper Northside teens. She did not want to feel that way, but she did. It felt like a betrayal to Ben to pretend to resent the decision the social worker had made for her when she was actually fine with it. She might even be more than fine with it.

She wiped away that dangerous thought.    

“Penny for your thoughts?” a voice called from the door. Juliet almost dropped what she was holding. She turned to the door, expecting Ben to be there. It wasn’t. It was a boy, draped head to toe in black, and…was that the forked tongue of the Serpents’ mascot tattoo on his forearm? It was. He had purple streaks in his hair, and his shirt was a deep violet. No prizes for guessing his favourite colour, it seemed. He leaned the tattooed arm on the doorway, relaxed. His leanness jumped out at her. Even the usually green snake on his arm had some customized purple scales that seemed to shine at her like gems. It seemed that the host of the house whose doorstep she was dancing on had arrived.

“No,” she said sternly, returning to whatever she was doing.

“Mr Coulson told me about the paper you were planning to resurrect from the dead,” he explained.

Juliet turned to look at him, surprised. He smiled, raising his eyebrows. She smiled back. “Okay, Psylocke, why’re you really here?”

“Ouch, I always thought I was more of a Quicksilver. You can call me Pietro Maximoff,” he said.

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I guess Antony Topaz will have to do,” he smirked. 

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “How can I help you, Pietro?”

He smiled mirthfully, looking younger than his age. “I’m expecting this newspaper of yours will require some…photos?” he takes out a camera, brandishing it. “And I need some credit if I want to get out of this hellhole and go somewhere worthwhile.”

Juliet nods, and Antony picks up a box Juliet had not noticed was at his feet. “I bring with me some simple furnishings. As a peace offering,” Antony smirked.

“Didn’t know we were at war,” Juliet commented.

Suddenly, Antony said seriously, “In this school, we’re always at war.”

“Consider me Switzerland,” Juliet winked.

“Haven’t you heard that maxim about neutral parties being more sinful than participators?”

“When the question is about choosing between two drug-dealing gangs, Pietro, there is no lesser evil,” she counters.

“We don’t sell drugs. That’s Ghoulies territory. We’re the lesser evil,” he says, which Juliet recognizes as code for _join us._

“I’m not going to join the Southside Serpents. Or the Ghoulies. I’m not here to be a gang member,” Juliet spat. “Now were you sent as a Trojan horse to lure me in or do you actually want to be a photographer for this paper?”

“Do you realize you’ll be a prized possession to any gang you join? The daughter of FP Jones, the most prominent member of the Serpents. The gang she joins is clearly the superior one. And if you don’t join us, you’ll have to stand opposite your father. And it’ll be a wound to our ego. See? I’m being completely being honest with you,” Antony explained.

“I’m not going to join any gang, Antony.”

“I’m trying to help you out. The Serpents will cajole and request you, but the Ghoulies use their fists to talk. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Their misogynistic asses won’t beat up a girl,” Juliet shrugged.

“It’s 2018, Juliet. Their misogyny includes beating you up.”

“I’m not going to join you guys, Antony. My father, the oh-so-famous FP Jones does not want me to. And neither do I.”

Antony shrugged, emptying his box onto the table. A kettle tumbled out, the cord slapping against the wooden table. There were a couple of files, things to help him organize the place with Juliet.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you on the gang thing, Pietro, but you’re welcome to be the photographer for the Red and Black,” Juliet said, trying to ease the tension from their previous conversation.

Antony nodded, grinning, and then winked. “So what are you? Teenage Warhead or Colossus?”

“I always thought I was a Mystique,” she joked.

“You overestimate yourself,” Antony teased. “You’re an Angel at best,” he said. Juliet dropped her jaw, pretending to be offended, trying to ignore the casual compliment this stranger had thrown at her. Was Antony Topaz flirting?  

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” Antony laughed.

~

Katrina, decked out in workout gear, entered the diner, getting a quick drink before leaving again. She spoke to no one and did not stay for long. But Chester Blossom, who was sitting at one of the booths, pretending to text someone, saw it all. He watched Katrina jog out of the diner, no doubt on her way to do whatever mysterious thing she did in the woods at night.

“Run, Kat, run,” Chester said to himself.

He opened up his contacts and typed “Benjamin” before tapping on the green receiver to call him.

“This is Ben,” Ben said.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Chester snapped.

“What do you want, Chester?” Ben sighed.

“I have some…news. About your bestie Katrina,” Chester grinned. It was a calming thing to resume his original role of stirring drama from the sidelines.

~


	7. Chapter Thirty-One: Civil War

Katrina stepped into the ward, greeting a smiling Michelle.

“I owe you gratitude, Kat,” Michelle grinned.

Katrina smiled back, and sighed. “I got to say, Mich. It was a little disorienting, hugging a Marty covered in your blood.” Michelle laughed out loud.

“I probably should not laugh at that,” Michelle said through her laughter. Katrina nodded, smiling mischievously.

“How’s Josephine?”

“You know about Josephine?”

Michelle nodded.

“She’s…gone. That’s all I can say about it, honestly,” Katrina sighed.

“I’m sorry, Kat. I’m sorry for how abruptly I left you. And about Josephine. About everything, really.”

“Says the one recovering from a rogue gunshot,” Katrina said sarcastically.

“I like him,” Michelle said.

Katrina raised an eyebrow, requesting an explanation.

“Martin. I really like him.”

Katrina smiled, the happiness genuine. “That’s great to hear.”

“I liked you too.”

“So you like hims and hers? There’s a word for that, you know,” said Katrina.

“Yeah,” Michelle sighed. “I’m not allowed to say it at home,” Michelle said, her eyes watering.

“Oh, Mich,” Katrina said sympathetically. “It gets better.”

Michelle nodded through her brimming tears.

“Damn, Kat. You made my girlfriend cry!” Martin said suddenly from the doorway. Michelle laughed suddenly, gingerly wiping the tears from her eyes. “No entry of yours is ever uneventful, Marty,” Katrina jabbed back.

Martin shrugged, winking. It hurt, still, to watch Martin and Michelle be so perfect for each other. Thankfully, Katrina got a text, her phone vibrating in her pocket. “That,” she said, “is probably my dad. I should go.”

On the way out, she checked the message. Safe to say, it was not from her father.

~

Katrina walked into Pop’s, sitting down, looking at the text. The word “Gluttony” blared from her screen, all the letters in capitals. A virus? Some lunatic looking to spread fear of God?

Katrina followed a diet, she did not eat as much. _If anyone,_ Katrina thought wryly, _Juliet should be getting this message._

Ben stormed in, Chester ( _Chester?_ Katrina thought) in tow. He plopped in front of Katrina, anger on his face. Chester slid in, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“What do you do, when you go jogging?” Ben asked.

Katrina raised her eyebrows, ignoring the heavy thumping of her heart. “I jog, Ben. It’s the second cousin of running, and the older brother of walking.”   

Ben rolled his eyes. “Someone,” he said. To which Chester raised his hand, to indicate the identity of ‘Someone’.

“Someone,” Ben said again, continuing, “noticed you go jogging again last night. And followed you. And saw you hook up with someone. In the woods. A stranger. Alone. In the dark. What the fuck, Kat?”

“Ben,” Katrina said, in a warning tone.

“I thought you at least had some respect for yourself,” Ben snapped. Chester’s jaw dropped, his eyes betraying how much he was enjoying this.

“Respect? For myself?” Katrina laughed. “You’re one to talk, Benny.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “I worry about you, Kat. You shouldn’t be hooking up with strangers and doing all… _this._ ”

Katrina stabbed her cake. “Can you just shut up? You, _worry,_ about _me?_ I’ve heard better lies from _Ariel,_ Ben. I could have jumped off a building and you wouldn’t spare a thought. You’re too busy playing the role of the hero Riverdale needs, right?”

“Well, I’m sorry, Benedict Cooper, I’m not a damsel in distress you need to help. Who I kiss, where I kiss, when I kiss and what I kiss is none of your business, alright?”

“You’re better than this, Kat,” Ben said, the words grating her skull.

“Sorry, Ben, turns out, I’m not. I’m sorry that I don’t live up to your ethical standards and I go around kissing girls left and right. I’m sorry I’m not a chaste moral compass like Juliet or Ariel. I guess you’ll have to cast me out of your life, if you have not already,” she said.  

“It’s not like that,” he tried to say.

“No, but you see, Ben, that’s exactly what it’s like. You hold people up to a standard, and you label them wrong and you blacklist them when they don’t make it. And you do all this while falling short of those very standards drastically. Are you really the pure golden boy everyone thinks you are? Newsflash, you’re not. You betrayed your parents by hiding your brother, which, might I remind you, led him to get hurt when _Chester,_ your mortal enemy, found him, and then you went behind your girlfriend’s back to organize a party to ease your guilty soul, which ended with your girlfriend getting humiliated by Chester.”

“Don’t forget the part where he blackmailed me using some very private secrets of mine,” Chester said.

“He did that?” Katrina asked, surprised. Chester nodded, raising an eyebrow challengingly at Ben, who glared back at him.

  “But because I kissed a bunch of girls in the forest, I’m a wanton impure criminal who requires your divine intervention, right?” Katrina asked, her lip curling.

Ben looked like Katrina had slapped him, which she might as well have. Chester looked, mouth agape, at the audience Katrina had gotten herself.

“Kat-” Ben tried, but Katrina rolled her eyes aggressively and picked up her cake, smashing it on his face. The strawberry shortcake slipped down his face and fell onto his shirt. Giggles erupted from the rest of the diner. Ben was frozen, the humiliation making his face red. Chester was strangely fascinated with this ending. He did not think Katrina Keller had it in her to really go that far. But it was amazing to watch Ben suffer the same sticky fate that he had when he had poured a milkshake down Chester.

 _So this mission has been successful,_ Chester thought gleefully.

~

Ariel put on her clothes, after a very tense training session. Ariel almost felt an irrational survivor’s guilt course through her every time she thought about Michelle’s battered body in the hospital. The bullet had hit her arm. Who knew if she could swim again? Most of all, Ariel kept remembering her own haunting words.

_What if one of us gets shot?_

Ariel, previously, did not believe in jinxes. But now she was left reeling. It almost felt like her fault. The team gathered after their showers. An inscrutable expression was on Rachel’s face. She was holding a stack of papers. Schedules, probably. For the upcoming season.

Rachel handed out the sheets. “Shift timings. For patrols.” Ariel looked up, surprised. Rachel smiled, no joy in it.

“There’s a danger in this town, and I would rather have us ready to defend ourselves than in a hospital.” Ariel smiled back.

~

Katrina came back after her “jog”, her fingers shaking. Maybe she could stay at Vermont’s, for a while. Who knew what storm lay in wait for her, inside the Keller house? Before she could make a final decision on whether to knock or to avoid the storm by just climbing into her room through the window, her father opened up the door, standing in front of her. His eyes were inscrutable. Katrina gulped. She, definitely, had no idea what storm was coming.

“Were you going to stand there the whole night to avoid me?” her father asked, the sound of his voice like scraping two pieces of sandpaper against each other. Katrina’s usual courage and savvy humor had been replaced by apprehensive silence.

“Ben came by,” he explained. It was the shortest explanation in the world, three words. Her friend’s name irritated her, she did not want to hear it. “Ben,” she replied, with an anger she had never felt before.

“I want you to be safe, Rina. It would kill me if something happened to you. There is something very sinister going on in this town. I pray…I pray every damn day,” he said, his voice breaking. A stray teardrop made its way down Katrina’s cheek.

“I pray for you, especially you, to be safe. Please, please, _please,_ don’t do rash things that put your safety at risk,” he said, clutching her hands in his. A sob fought its way out of Katrina.

“I don’t understand,” he said, crying as well, for the first time in Katrina’s life. “I don’t understand what it is like, but I want to. I really do want to. Tell me things that will make me understand you more.”

“We don’t really talk about these kind of things,” he paused, taking her into a hug. “I think it’s time we do.” He kissed her forehead.

“I’m sorry, dad,” she said into his uniform. He had not changed out of his uniform since coming back. He had been waiting, no doubt in anxiety, for her to return.

“I love you, Katrina,” he said, wrenching more sobs out of her.

~

The next night, the town hall was brimming with angry mutters of disgruntled parents. The shooting of Michelle and Martin had shaken many parents, who thought their children were innocent teenagers, free from this barbarian’s wrath. In the middle of the hall were the Lodges, always ready to milk the best profit they could out of everything. This time, it was their reputation. Hiram had tried to make some small deals in neighboring towns, trying to generate the same revenue he had before jail. But apparently the word “Lodge” caused some people to spit in disgust. They had the opinion that the Lodges were terrible at business, following the law, and parenting. Everyone had read every single hate-mongering article on their son, Hermione, and of course, the man himself.

Hermione had told Hiram that if they built up their reputation from square one, perhaps the cash flow would increase. Hiram, obviously, was very good at business, not very good at following the law. Parenting was his niche, he wanted to believe. And the town hall meeting was perfect for proving the fact. What could be better than creating a concerned, virtuous ruckus right in the heart of Riverdale’s phony righteous heart? Nothing, is what.

This is what Hiram had been thinking while he turned his mind off to the non-shooting related details discussed in the town hall. He watched as Hermione stood up when the topic of the shooting eventually came around.

“I do not care what you feel about the business side of my husband and I, but like you, we are both parents. And we will not simply stand by as our very children are shot under are noses by some ruffian in the safety of our very town!”

 _As rehearsed, Hermione. Well done._ Hiram smiled at his wife.

“I understand,” he said, standing up. “All of you do not think highly of the two of us. But we implore you, fellow Riverdale citizens, to stand up, and see the fact that our Sherriff and our Mayor and not doing much! Are we really going to be the town that stays quiet while our children get hurt, because that would mean going against the ones in power?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Lodge, please, sit down,” Mayor McCoy said through the microphone, the loud sound gone unheard by the sensation of agreement by the rest of the parents gathered here.

“Of course not, Hiram,” Hal stood up, Alice in tow. Hermione smirked at Hiram. Alice continued. “Sherriff, Mayor, you have children. You should be on edge right now. I would have thought there would be a curfew by now,” Alice said, as if imposing a curfew was a business-as-usual move.

“A curfew?” Fred stood up. “Alice, do you even have any idea what you are saying? A curfew means that we are scared. It means that we are backing off. It means telling the lunatic that he got us!”

“Are you still going to say that when you realize your daughter and her swim team are making patrols in the night to make sure nothing is wrong?” Hal said, playing his final card.

Hiram looked at Hermione in surprise. _The Coopers are being a good ally,_ he said. She smirked, once again taking control of the conversation, not allowing Fred to react. He looked shocked, to say the least.

“Sherriff, see? Our children are now ensuring their own safety. What next? Guns in the hands of high-schoolers? Don’t let us become barbarians because of that barbarian.”

Hiram stepped in. _Can’t let her get all the spotlight,_ he thought. “And we all know where the danger lies in this town. Where the shooter is from. It’s the ones who are not here today. The Southsiders,” he said.

The Mayor suddenly looked extremely interested in the course of the conversation. “What are you suggesting, Mr. Lodge?”

“Flush out the Southside, Mayor. You’ve got jurisdiction over them. Find the shooter. We’re all parents in this room. We’re not going to rest until he is stopped,” Hiram attested.

“Hiram, aren’t you doing business there?” Fred asked, his eyes glowing like embers…at Hermione.

Hiram smirked. This was the time to convince everyone in the room that he was always leagues ahead of everyone else.

“I am doing business in the Southside because if the land there is empty of the Southside, it can help Riverdale money-wise. Save Riverdale, Mayor, by ending the plague of the Southside. The gangs, the crime. Everything should be razed to ash so a new, better, Southside can begin there.”

The awe of the town was almost tangible in the air, a shimmering floating element that promised the two Lodges that their time of notoriousness was over.


	8. Chapter Thirty-Two: Cracking

Ben, Juliet and Tony sat inside Juliet’s trailer. The absence of FP made the trailer lose its previous charm that Ben did not know it had. Now it was just a place where Juliet slept. Home, it was not.

Ben looked at the purple streaks of hair on Antony’s head. His mother would _never_ let Ben dye his hair something other than blonde, so purple was already far-fetched. It was awkward, and even though technically Antony was the one who was “third-wheeling”, Ben felt left out. The references to serial killers went right over his head, and they seemed endless and relentless.

Ignoring the creeping blush, Ben focused on the code in front of him. Juliet was on the couch, reading a book about codes, and occasionally writing something noteworthy down on a piece of paper. Vermont was on his phone, hopefully checking ways to crack codes. He was at the small table, eating Chinese takeout. Anthony was reading up on serial killers, even though he apparently knew _everything_ about them. The occult topic of atypical crime meant to Antony what burgers at Pop’s meant to Juliet.

“Anything?” Vermont asked the group, piercing the silence.

The three of them shook their heads in unison. Vermont sighed.

“Ben,” Juliet came down from the couch, sitting next to him. “Let’s keep the letter away,” she said softly, trying to pry it out of his hands. His grip tightened on the ominous thing, his knuckles turning white.

Juliet sighed and kissed Ben on the cheek. “You need to take a break, B. You’ve been at it ever since school ended. Maybe even during lessons.” Ben slumped, leaning against the wall.

Antony eyed the two of them. They were so comfortable with one another. He wondered if he could ever have that with anyone. Suddenly, an image of him and the girl opposite him, together, flashed across his mind. He swept it away faster than lightning. He quickly averted his eyes away from Ben and Juliet to the book in his hands. He could not focus on reading.

“So, let me get this straight, you didn’t tell the police about this letter from the shooter who has shot three?” he asked, just to poke fun.

Ben looked up, his expression clearly letting Antony know it was not funny.

“Funny noggin,” Antony joked.

Vermont laughed at the unfunny joke to lighten the atmosphere. “Hey, Ben’s noggin is beyond reproach!”

Antony looked at Juliet, carrying on the fake comic script, giving the expression of is-he-serious? Juliet shrugged, smirking at Vermont. Ben returned to staring at his hands. Suddenly, Vermont’s phone vibrated. The caller ID blared “Kat”.

“What’s up, Kat?” Vermont picked up.

“I figured it out, V,” her exhilarated voice said through the cold screen.

“The code?” Vermont asked.

“No, the language of Latin. Of course, the damn code!” Katrina yelled.

“Calm down, calm down. Tell me, where are you?” Vermont asked.

There was a knock on the door, Katrina’s answer. Juliet rushed to get the door, and Katrina rushed in with a keyboard in her hands.

“It’s backwards!” she said, panting.

“We tried that,” Antony said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, no,” Katrina said, slamming the keyboard down in front of Vermont at the table. Antony, Ben and Juliet gathered around him.

“It doesn’t follow the alphabet, it follows the QWERTY keyboard layout!” Katrina declared triumphantly.

Ben looked up at Katrina, shocked. Katrina refused to look at Ben. Antony meanwhile stared at the keyboard that Katrina had dug up from 1990.

“Oh brother,” Antony gasped.

“What?” Juliet snapped.

“The code. That’s what it says. Oh brother. With an exclamation point,” Katrina said.

“Parker,” Juliet, Ben and Vermont said at the same time.

And with that, Ben leapt up like lightning and ran out the trailer.

~

Parker was at the store when he saw the car flash by. It was a rather damaged car. That was what he had noticed. He was outside, holding the groceries that Alice had told him to get for the special casserole she was preparing that night. The famous trademark Cooper casserole.

He didn’t even see the arm outside the open window of the driver’s seat, and he didn’t see the finger pull the trigger. He just heard the gunshot, and he wasn’t even sure that he had been hit until he collapsed on the pavement, blood spurting out of his thigh. His groceries spilt onto the pavement as passers-by rushed to his aid.

He saw a carrot roll out of the brown paper bag and into the roadside gutter, and then it all went black.

~

Ben barely managed to leave the trailer park before his mother called him, her voice harried and her tears audible. Vermont had to drive him to the hospital.

It was the second time that Ben had been in the Riverdale Hospital since the school dance a couple of weeks ago. First for Mr Andrews, and now for Parker.

“Is he alright?” he gasped at his mother, who was in the waiting room.

“They got the bullet out, but it hit a nerve and they’re trying to save him from…” Alice choked on the truth.

 _It hit a nerve._ Paralysis. Parker, the football of the Riverdale Bulldogs, was on the verge of paralysis. Parker, who was going to be on the way to kicking a ball around with his sons, was on the way to becoming a wheelchair-bound father who could…what would he be able to do? His athletic scholarships, all gone.

Ben collapsed in front of his mother, crying with his head on her knee. Alice had no words to say, her tears run dry. Juliet sat on the floor next to Ben, her arms around him, stroking his hair, hoping it was calming him down. Hal, away from his son and wife, leaned against the wall and looked at the air in front of him emptily. 

After what seemed like forever, the doctor came in front of Hal, and Alice looked up, rushing to Dr Strauss.

“We managed to restore feeling to his leg, but he’ll require intense physiotherapy to regain full performance of his right leg. You’re very lucky. He’ll make it,” the doctor said, smiling. Alice collapsed into Hal in relief, fresh, happy tears rolling down both their faces.

“Thank God,” Ben sighed, smiling wide, hugging Juliet. Vermont sighed in relief, his rosary in hand.

“He’s conscious, so if you would like to see him for a while,” the nurse gestured down the hallway at Parker’s room.

Hal and Alice nodded, smiling. Wiping their tears, they reached back to where Ben was.

Hal said, “Vermont, Juliet, thank you so much for staying here with Ben. You can go home now,” he said. Alice said, “We’re sure you need rest now. Thank you so much.”

Vermont and Juliet shared a glance, nodding. Ben smiled gratefully at his friends before walking quickly to his brother’s room, his parents following in his footsteps.

“Pop’s?” Vermont asked.

Juliet sighed. “Pop’s.”

~

A bustling diner contained the four of them at the usual booth. Katrina, Ariel, Vermont and Juliet.

Ariel was still processing the news of Parker’s shooting. Even the onion rings couldn’t lift spirits. Ariel was shredding the tissue in hand because of worry.

“You do realize he’s okay, right?” Vermont asked, eyeing the dead shreds on the table, piling up.

Ariel looked up at him, mindfully putting the rest of the tissue down on the table, resting her hands on her lap. “How did you figure out the code?”

Katrina paused, thinking about how to explain it. “I was just, in my attic, looking through old shit of my dad’s…and then I saw the old keyboard, and it just…came to me, I guess,” Katrina said.

“It followed the QWERTY thing?” Ariel asked.

Katrina nodded. Ariel bit her lower lip. Vermont and Juliet shared a glance. That was what Ariel did to hide secrets.

~

Ben stepped into his shower, closing the cubicle door shut. He let warm water jets hit his body, hoping they could somehow wash away the blood that was there and at the same time, not. His brother’s blood was on his hands, it felt. If he had somehow managed to figure out the code earlier, then he could have stopped his brother from getting hurt.

Ben’s jaw quivered as he looked up at the showerhead. He turned the tap towards the red side. The water got warmer, hovering on the edge of uncomfortable. But his hand continued to turn the tap from warm to hot. The water was straight-up hot now, his skin turning red. Steam clouded the cubicle. A shudder escaped, pain being relished. There was so much steam that Ben couldn’t see anything for a little while. If only he could vaporize as well.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

Suddenly, the hot water gave way to cold water as the hot water ran out. His skin sighed in relief as the pain he enjoyed left. He let a gasp make its way out of his as he fell against the cubicle door.

 _Oh brother!_ The answer seemed to mock him.

Toweling himself gingerly, he stepped out of the cubicle. The mirror was blurry. He wiped the condensed vapour off of it, to reveal his red-tinged body. He let out a small sigh. He tried to remind himself never to do that again.

Suddenly, his fingers tingled for his blade. His thigh was free of noticeable scars now, and he felt like he didn’t deserve that.

He deserved nothing, in fact.

The blade dug into his skin, his blood blooming like a fresh rose in the darkness. The pain made the surrounding skin tingle satisfactorily. His hand slightly shaking, he placed the blade on the table next to his bed, mopping up the blood with his tissue. The pain was slight but exhilarating, and that was why Ben picked up his blade again. But before he could, his phone vibrated, chanting one word again and again.

 _“Envy, envy, envy,”_ the female voice repeated. Ben’s quivering palm held his phone, the caller ID a string of unrecognized numbers.

“Hello?” Ben asked, picking up the phone. A faint sound of fingers clicking on a keyboard.

“Oh, brother! Took you too long to figure out the code. Sinners sinned so sinners paid.”

“Excuse me, who is this?” The sound was heard again.

“Coopers love to be perfect, and they’re envious of anybody who is. Envy, envy, envy,” the voice said mechanically. It was clear it was a default voice on a laptop, and this was not a modified voice. So no point recording the phone call, it was not a human voice saying those words.

“Leave me alone,” Ben said, sounding more pathetic than planned.

The grating sound.

“I could, Benedict. But you’re the only one who can stop the storm I’m bringing with me.”

“What?”

 

“You’re the son of Riverdale. You hold all of its flaws and all of its qualities. If you want to stop the shootings, then you can. Just do everything I tell you to do.”

“I’m not going to be your pawn,” Ben gritted.

“That’s fine. I still have more bullets left.”

Ben paused. Was he really going to sacrifice himself for…this maniac? Could he take the knowledge of being safe while other people dropped dead because of him?

“I notice you haven’t hung up yet.”

He didn’t want to say the words. _What do you want?_ He didn’t want to verbally give in. He stayed silent.

“Break it off with Juliet Jones.”

“No,” Ben whimpered. Not Juliet, please, not Juliet. He could not break her like that. Her father was going to serve time. She needed him.

“That’s fine with me. Who do you think should be next? The drug-dealer or the cop?”

Ben felt his eyes water. “Please,” he begged.

“Fine. Choose a number.”

Ben bit his lip. What? “5?” he said, confused.

“Odd. Guess the drug-dealer it is. Thank you, Benedict,” the voice declared.

“Wait, wait! I’ll do it,” Ben blurted out. The thought of having more blood on his hands was unbearable. Parker was one too many. “I’ll end things with Juliet. I promise.”

A metallic click.

Ben sat on the bed gingerly, shaking from head to toe. He scrambled for the blade, curling a tight fist around it, his left hand screaming in pain as a long gash tore across his palm. His jaw dropped open as a pained groan left his mouth, loud enough for his parents to hear.

A pair of hurried footsteps bounding up the staircase. “Ben, is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said weakly. “Yes, mom. I just stubbed my toe,” he said in what he hoped was a better tone. After he heard his mother’s footsteps go back to the kitchen, Ben stood up, stumbled into the toilet, and tried to focus on the water that turned bright red.

Later, wrapping a bandage around it, he thanked his mother in his mind for sending him for first-aid lessons a long time ago and getting him certified.

When it was all done, he curled up in his bed and stared at the weakly fluorescent stars on his ceiling. A couple of stars were still on there. Not a single second of sleep came to him.         

~

 


End file.
